


Old Fashioned Sleepover

by orphan_account



Series: Stuff I Won't Finish [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Depression, Gwen doesn't die, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, She only breaks up with Peter, Sleepovers, super family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1849540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been nearly six months since Gwen Stacy had let Peter go.<br/>And Peter didn't take it too kindly to heart.<br/>And after about three months of crying and moping and depression, his dads eventually pushed him out of the nest to get some fresh air and to live the real world rather than cry at home. During that time, several super heroes had tried and attempted to cheer Spiderman and Peter Parker up- and none have really succeeded.</p><p>That is, until Deadpool decides to get a shot at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Fashioned Sleepover

**Author's Note:**

> So I have like a million word documents up right now and I'm trying to get rid of the ones i don't exactly like or need or won't finish and this is one I don't think I'll finish BUT
> 
> It turned out good so I didn't want to get completely rid of it so i'm giving it out to you guys. Maybe if I get enough support i'll maybe finish it probably not don't count on it but, otherwise, enjoy <3

It has been nearly six months since Gwen Stacy had let Peter go.

It was all in good intentions; the only reason for the break up was her amazing opportunity for a scholarship at a University in England. She knew she wouldn’t see him for years to come, and that contact would be scarce due to her studies, and refused to take him with her because of, well, being Spiderman the constant danger you’re faced with, it can be a little unsettling to know.

But, Peter didn’t take it well. After about three months, his dads eventually forced him outside to continue his hero patrol. As much as they dislike him being in a deep depression, and having to force him to battle the scum of New York, it was completely necessary.

Spiderman was one of the few superheroes that battled small battles, such as bank robbery and little girls being followed by strange men. 

To be honest, none of the real bigwig superheroes were really up for the task to strut in their super suits in city streets, just to watch for bad things to happen.

They were more like, alien invasions and mortal enemies. Spiderman, however, was not. And it’s not like his dads, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, could do anything to make up for the neighborhood patrol.

Tony was a famous scientist, always on the brink of new studies or theories or creating new toys. Steve would always go on S.H.E.I.L.D missions, leaving Tony and Peter at home to dwell. 

But since the heart wrenching break up of a nearly five yearlong relationship, things at the Stark-Rogers household have been a little shaky. Steve would decline missions to stay home and take care of Pete, while Tony would set off work to do the same.

Several of their coworkers and superhero colleagues have given their regards and best wishes, considering Peter’s condition was near to suicidal until they forced him to go outside.

And when he did, some supers would join him for a small New York patrol, just giving regards and small talking. Honestly, Peter hated all the pity. Considering Spiderman was to be considered one of the lesser superheroes, although his name was extremely well known.

And being one of the youngest superheroes, nearly nineteen, he’s always been treated as lesser. Like how upperclassmen would treat the freshman in high school.

Nearing the seventh month of the single life, or more like the life without Gwen Stacey, Peter had begun to settle down. Of course, there were some nights where he would totally give up his mask just to talk to her.

But, whenever his mind would stroll back to Gwen Stacy, what usually got him to feel better was to violently swing in-between buildings and perform the most daring tricks and swings and see how close he could get to the ground before saving himself. 

And tonight, was one of those nights.

He huffed, disregarding several catcalls and cheers as he spit a web from his wrist and soared inches above pedestrian’s heads. 

The long web arched him up far, at the climax of the height; Peter had let go, feeling himself fling upwards into the sun setting city sky, soaring. The wind pushed harshly against him, gravity threatening to end his life, but a smile still tugged at his lips and breathed in the smell of pollution and dirt, not minding the disgusting smell because it smelled like home.

After what seemed like hours, but merely seconds, he began to fall. The cement city was coming at him fast, and every time it made his heart pound in fear and adrenaline, the familiar sense of a tingle in the back of his mind becoming comforting and almost erotic. And again, he flung a web towards the nearest building corner, saving himself once more, barely skipping the ground.

Upon riding the web around a city street corner, he spots a certain somebody beside the local nasty food trucks. He wouldn’t exactly say superhero, and wouldn’t say villain either. 

Deadpool.

He’s met Deadpool enough, and has heard about him even more so. His parents have complained, loudly, over a mission Deadpool nearly messed up on or pissed the either off or, simply, one of Deadpool’s missions intervened with theirs. 

He was a real pain in the ass when it came to S.H.E.I.L.D, X-Men, Fantastic Four, well. Everybody he knew.

And when it comes to face to face with the Mercenary, it was a fuck fest of migraines and annoyance. The guy was loonier than a basket of ferrets high on crack. 

Deadpool’s kill everything style of doing things just causes an entire problem with Spiderman. And his logic just twisted the spider’s brain to the point of nearly wanting to strangle him.

They’ve had good times, no doubt, but Deadpool was considered the annoying friend you can only handle so much of and overstays their welcome.

And Spiderman’s job? Kick Deadpool out the second he comes in. New York has officially been off limits for Deadpool, and each time Deadpool comes around with a new mission, it’s always a hectic adventure for Spidey.

The second Spiderman’s feet touched the cement; Deadpool snapped his head towards the spider with sickening speed, as if he had a spidey-sense himself. He quickly inhaled the rest of the hotdog he held while Spiderman strutted over with authority.

And before Peter could fully approach him, Deadpool pulled his mask down over his face and said with a full mouth, “Gotta go.”

And he sprinted. 

Spiderman sighed in frustration, not really wanting to chase after anybody, especially somebody as fast and ninja-like as Deadpool, but swung after him anyway. Running is never a good sign.

And as Deadpool weaved, well not really weaved more like shoved, through the busy crowd of New Yorkers, he instantly saw an alleyway and shot through it. Spiderman, never keeping his eye off of him, touched down and followed pursuit around the corner only to see nothing.

But the slight cursing and sound of stumbling caused him to look up, to see Deadpool’s foot scramble behind the roof of one of the buildings for a split second.

Spiderman instantly crawled up towards the roof of the building with strategic quickness, and once his feet had landed he saw a, surprisingly, cool-headed Deadpool.

Spiderman huffed and crossed his arms, looking at the taller and muscular man. Honestly, it was ironic. Spiderman, compared to Deadpool, was scrawny and nearly 5 inches shorter, but the upper hand was his and always his.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Spiderman interrupted the awkward silence.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I heard you were on the brink of killing yourself because of some girl.”

Ouch. 

“Wow, no holding back with you huh?” Spiderman’s sarcasm nearly dripped.

Deadpool smiled proudly. “Nope.”

Spiderman rolled his eyes, looking down at his shoes and rubbing the back of his neck, messaging it lightly. 

The only reason he went out today was to forget about her, now the problem was facing him head on. An annoying bastard to go along with it, too.

He sighed and rolled his shoulders before looking back at Deadpool. “Okay, thanks, why are you here?”

There was a slight hesitation before a smile pulled across Deadpool’s mask. “Oh, oh, just here to talk! Like everybody else, ya’ know. Talk about your deep feelings and things.” Deadpool’s tone was almost mocking.

“It’s been seven months, I don’t really care anymore.”

“You’ve been counting, that means you care.”

Spiderman and huffed, only to glare harder, obviously defeated. And they stood, Spiderman glaring and Deadpool smiling with as much sincerity as he could muster. The silence nearly killed, which Deadpool didn’t notice as he took a step closer and began once more.

“So?”

“So.”

“How many people have you banged yet?” He grinned and wriggled his eyebrows.

“DEADPOOL!” Spiderman took a step back, nearly disgusted.

“A lot, huh? All the women around here talk about you. All of them thought I was you, so you have no idea how much tail I-“

“Woah, woah, woah.” Spiderman stepped forward and placed a hand on Deadpool’s chest, lightly pushing him back and acting as if he was touching, literally, a bag of flaming dog shit with his toe.

“Okay, you’re so wrong here. One, I don’t use my Spiderman status as a reel for girls.”

“Why not?”

“Two, I haven’t ‘banged’ anyone.”

“Obviously.”

“And three, I really don’t care who you’ve been with and what they’ve said about me.”

“You don’t?”

“No Deadpool, I don’t.” They stood there for a second, before Peter quickly and awkwardly pulled his hand from Deadpool’s chest, touching it as if it were burned.

Of course, Deadpool didn’t notice. They, again, stood in awkward silence. Nearly too close to each other, Spiderman decides, so he took a step back before returning the conversation.

“Why are you REALLY here anyway?”

“I’m here to help.”

“Honestly Deadpool I-“

“Well, I’ve heard everybody else’s stories of attempting to cheer you up and I thought ‘shit they’re so bad at cheering up guys who just got out of a relationship’ because trust me, I’ve been there-“

“With WHO?”

“-And I was like, I could totally do such a better job than all these horses-“

“Horses?”

“-And I came up with this plan and It’s such a fucking good one and once you’re cheered up, it’ll all be like, better and stuff. I have a whole night and day thing going on here.” Deadpool nodded assuringly.

“Deadpool, I don’t need any cheering up.”

And as the itch in the back of Peter’s head tingled, before he could react, the front of his costume was being balled up into Deadpool’s fist, and his face was horribly close to his. The smell of hotdogs and tacos from Deadpool’s breath was still horribly strong, despite the masks.

“You will cheer up, and you will like it.” Deadpool growled dangerously between gritted teeth.

Spiderman choked, not on the tight hold around the fabric on his neck, but the overwhelming bad breath.

“Deadpool, me and you don’t exactly have the same definitions of fun.”

“Then what’s yours?” Deadpool still growled and kept his grip.

“Not yours, that’s for sure. Tell you what, I’ll go if you buy a breath mint.”

And before he could recognize it, Spiderman dropped from Deadpool’s grip and not so gracefully landed on his feet. He sputtered and coughed, trying to get the smell and near taste of tacos and hotdogs out of his mouth. He almost lifted up his mask to breath in the fresh air. 

He straightened out after letting all the coughs out before looking at the smiling Deadpool wearily.

“Well, what did you have in mind?”

“Strip clubs, bars, killing hookers, a battle to the death, rooftop racing-“

“Okay, you know, I can only do one of those and that is rooftop racing. All the rest are off limits.”

“Bu- But I totally brought a list.”

“I doubt I can do anything on that list. Really, what sounds like a good time to me is busting bad guys.”

“You do that everyday.”

“And I love it.”

“Boooooring. Come on webhead, live a little!”

“Ugh. Fine, gimme the list and I’ll cross out whatever I don’t want or can’t do.”

Deadpool smiled widely, opening one of his many infinite pockets, rummaging through before pulling out a scroll of paper. He unfolded it and from Deadpool’s 6 foot 2 inch stance, the list scraped the ground.

Spiderman groaned and just accepted it, walking over to the edge of the building and sitting down, letting his legs dangle.

“Do you have a pen with you too?”

He gasped as a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and shoved him towards the edge of the building, his hands making the motion for a web to be shot, before he realized he wasn’t falling.

A devious snicker was heard behind him, and before Spiderman could turn around a pen appeared in front of him, as well as the list.

Peter rolled his eyes and snatched the paper and pen from Deadpool’s hands, which Deadpool proceeded to sit next to Spiderman with his legs dangling from the building as well.

“Dipshit.”

“Come on! That was funny! Your hands stretched out to do the little web thing you do, too! Comedy gold!” Deadpool snickered harder.

“More like comedy fold.” Spiderman smiled at his own joke as he proceeded to click the pen.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Whatever. Alright let’s see here… Party? Nope. Kill Hookers? Nope. Clubs? Nope. Bar fights? Nope. Buy a kitten? Okay, maybe. Watch Mean Girls? Yes! Torment those going to see the new Spiderman movie? Wow. No? Uuuh, let’s see… Nope, nope, nada, uh uh, nope, nope, nope, okay that sounds interesting, nope, no- WADE!!”

Deadpool snapped out of his pouty trance for the sound of his real name, and looked over at Spiderman confused.

“What?”

“Fuck? What does FUCK mean?”

“Oh. I thought you’d know by now, but… I mean… I guess I’ll say if no one else has. When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much…”

“Deadpool, I meant what do you mean by fuck?”

Deadpool wriggled his eyebrows and Peter nearly gagged. “Uh, no. Thanks for the offer Deadpool. Lets start something small. Like, what, go buy a kitten? The catch is you have to keep it; Dad’s allergic to it. You have to have a place first. Do you even live anywhere?”

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

“Here”

“What?! You’re not supposed to even BE in New York!”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t done a lot to stir attention have I?”

“Not that I know of!”

“So I haven’t. Well, what about shopping?”

“No.”

“Oh, boo, you whore. How about a crazy 80’s aerobic dance class?”

“What?”

“Yeah, like in that one music video Call on Me by… Oh, fuck who is it by….” Wade sat their, his eyebrows furrowed tightly as he stared off into nothing. And he sat there for five minutes.

Spiderman, as a lot of people say, has the patience of a mother with newborn triplets. Dealing with citizens, and Deadpool, does that to you.

“Oh! Call on Me by Eric Prydz! Oh my God, that’s such a good music video. Her leotard is so tight it looks like she could floss her teeth with it, when she bends over it-“

“No. No 80’s aerobatic dance classes.”

“Aerobic.”

“Deadpool, half of the things you’re listing off is more of your thing. How about a sleepover or something? Old fashioned stuff.”

“I call top.”

“I don’t have a bunk bed?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“DEADPOOL! Not that kind of sleepover!”

“What else is there?”

“Where you, you know, come over to my house and sleep!”

“Oh. Either, way, top is mine.”

“Ugh, Deadpool.” Spiderman facepalmed.


End file.
